


How We Swallow The Sun

by laetificat



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/F, Sex Pollen, Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-06 22:17:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19071790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laetificat/pseuds/laetificat
Summary: “Uh huh, I’m sure this will be fine.” Gamora sipped the cocktail and grimaced. “Just like all those other times we’ve robbed casinos to get back our friends -- who are probably being tortured by space pirates while we speak -- with no backup, while carrying no guns and risking a devastating intergalactic war if we’re caught."





	How We Swallow The Sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saiditallbefore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiditallbefore/gifts).



> spoilers: this contains far more porn and far less heist than you're probably expecting.

“I feel ridiculous.”

“Well, you look fine.”

Carol sipped her multi-colored cocktail as she leaned against the balustrade, gazing out at the glittering throng of people that filled the casino. Then she glanced back at Gamora. 

“What?”

Gamora tilted her head. “Fine? That’s all I get?”

Carol turned around, sliding round blue eyeglasses down her nose to study Gamora properly. Her eyes travelled over smooth green skin that cascaded in a river from her throat to the middle of her belly, framed along the sides of her torso by the thousands of mirrored scales which made up a dress which hugged every swell and curve of her muscled hips and thighs. Her dark hair was gathered with a spray of long glass pins; red-purple glitter dusted her cheekbones and sparkled on her lips.

Carol cleared her throat around the words she wanted to say and couldn’t. “I, um. Okay, more than fine. Pretty, I mean, it’s very pretty, you’re very, um..”

Gamora let her wriggle on the hook for a few more seconds, then cracked an easy smile that Carol thought Quill had taught her. She plucked the cocktail flute out of Carol’s hand and sniffed it. “It’s okay. It just feels strange not to be wearing any weapons.”

Grinning and relieved, Carol flicked a few invisible specks of dust off the shoulder of her tuxedo jacket. “Luckily, we have me.” 

“Uh huh, I’m sure this will be fine.” Gamora sipped the cocktail and grimaced. “Just like all those other times we’ve robbed casinos to get back our friends -- who are probably being tortured by space pirates while we speak -- with no backup, while carrying no guns and risking a devastating intergalactic war if we’re caught. Ugh, what’s in this?”

She handed the drink back to Carol, who swirled it speculatively. Something in the depths sparked and fizzed. “The bartender said it was based on a traditional Wookie recipe. It’s supposed to be invigorating.” 

“It tastes like fermented battery acid.”

“I think that’s the can-cell blood.”

Gamora frowned. “This is officially the weirdest place you’ve taken me to.”

Carol raised her eyebrows, toasting Gamora with the cocktail flute. “That sounds like a challenge.”

Gamora’s gaze flicked to something over her shoulder. “Hold on, we have company.”

“Ladies!” The Twi’lek approaching them held his arms wide in a gesture of welcome. His purple-hued lekku were twined above his head in a complex pattern of interlocking knots, ornamented with gaudy jewels. Rings flashed on his fingers as he gestured out at the busy crowd. “I hope you’re enjoying your evening.” 

Gamora painted on a mostly convincing smile that Carol interpreted as her ‘I wish I was holding something weapon-y’ expression. “It’s marvellous.” 

Carol stepped forward to take the Twi’lek’s hand. “Ouden Vosar, this is my --”

“Wife,” Gamora interrupted.

Carol couldn’t help the split second of surprise that flashed across her expression. “Wife,” she continued, “Gamora.”

“My deepest congratulations to you both!” Ouden exclaimed, clasping Gamora’s hand and bending over it in a bow, forcing Gamora to lean back to avoid headbutting his lekku. Dangling crystals flashed and swung from his head as he straightened up. He smiled, showing pointed teeth. “Please, take this, as a gift from me, to honor your union.”

He dug into the pocket of his robes and produced a small disc of clear material, which he pressed into Gamora’s palm. She glanced at it, then at Carol, who nodded slightly. 

“Thank you, Ouden,” Carol replied. “We’ll be sure to use it wisely.”

Ouden smiled again and spread his hands. “Of course, Captain, of course, I wouldn’t expect anything else. And now if you will excuse me, I believe I am wanted at the Binspo tables.” 

Gamora watched him as he disappeared into the crowd, then held up the disc for Carol’s inspection. “This is it?”

Carol took it from her, examining it thoughtfully before pocketing it. “Looks like it. This should get us to the suite where they’re holding Peter and Rocket without anyone noticing.”

“That was shockingly easy.” 

Carol shrugged, draining the last of her cocktail and setting the flute on a table. “Sometimes you don’t have to go in shooting to get results. Come on.” She started towards the grav-lifts.

“But that’s so much more fu.. uuh.” 

Carol turned around in time to see Gamora stagger, trying and failing to catch herself on a table and earning them glances and shocked murmurs from nearby casino patrons as she went to her knees. Carol was at her side in an instant, arm around her. Concern thudded against the walls of her heart.

“Gamora! What’s wrong? Are you injured?” 

Gamora blinked at her, then shook her head a little and pushed herself up, wobbling a little against Carol’s supportive hold. “I.. I’m fine, I think, I just.. Dizzy. Felt like the room was spinning.” 

She took a step and staggered a little. Carol tightened her grip. Ignoring the stares from the people around them, she guided Gamora over to a quieter area near the grav-lifts, setting her down in an alcove carved out of the smooth marble walls. 

“Are you in pain? Is there any numbness? Visual impairment?”

Gamora leaned her head back against the wall. Instinctively, Carol reached out and brushed a loose lock of hair back from her face, noting as she did the warmth of her skin. 

“No, I -- it’s passing, I feel OK. We need to move. Find the others.”

“You’re clearly not --”

“Carol. We don’t have time for this.”

Carol raised and settled three separate arguments in her mind, shelved a fourth, and settled on a decision. “Fine. But if you even think about getting worse, I’m taking us both out of here and I’m not paying for the inevitable architectural damage either.”

Gamora stood, only a little shaky, and pointedly ignored Carol’s offered hand. She rolled her shoulders as if taking up an invisible burden and pulled in a breath. Let it out, looking at Carol, her expression hard and bright as the glittering shards of glass on her dress.

“I’m good. Let’s go.”

Carol lead the way to the grav-lifts, trying and failing to not let her concern for Gamora bubble back to the surface. Gamora didn’t seem to notice her glances, her mouth set in a firm line, eyes tracking the security guards moving through the crowd. 

“Getting out of here is going to hurt,” she pointed out, voice low under the noise of the casino. Carol palmed the button for the grav-lifts. Adjusted the lines of her suit.

“We don’t have a choice. My contacts can only get me so far.”

“Once we rescue him, I’m going to kill Peter.” Gamora dragged a hand across her forehead.

“You’re sure you’re up to this?”

“I --” Gamora began, but was interrupted by the arrival of the lift. Patrons poured out of it, chattering in a dozen different languages; the two of them slipped in behind. 

The lift was wide and spacious, covered in more mirrors and vibrating faintly with the shivering hum of the miniature anti-gravity engine that carried it up and down the side of the building. Gamora went to lean against one wall. Carol glanced at their reflected selves, rippling into infinity, then slipped the clear disc out of her pocket and passed it across a metal plate by the door. There was a muted chime and the lift began to rise.

Carol glanced up, as if gaze at the sky somewhere above them, doused in perpetual night thanks to a quirk of the planet’s positioning. “At least we’ll be above most of the city, if it comes to, you know, exploding things.” 

Gamora looked at Carol. More of her hair had slipped from the pins holding it up and hung around her face, making ribbons of darkness against her skin. She licked her lips.

“What did you say the bartender told you? About the cocktail?”

“Um, that it’s invigorating? It’s supposed to give you energy and fortitude, I think, though I don’t feel.. very..” Carol drifted to a halt, watching Gamora as she clung to the side of the lift. She was breathing hard. Her eyes were fixed on Carol, glassy, pupils blown into black discs.

Carol inhaled shallowly, her heightened senses playing the familiar chord that was Gamora. Perfume, leather, cold steel. Sweat. 

Adrenaline. Lust.

“Oh,” said Carol. “Maybe your.. physiology.. wasn’t compatible with the.. uh.”

“Yeah,” said Gamora.

“Ok,” said Carol.

“Yeah,” said Gamora. “Stop the lift. Right now.”

“What, I --”

“I can’t focus like this. I need to be able to focus. We have time.”

“Actually, we don’t --”

Eyes still fixed on Carol, Gamora shot out a fist into the side of the lift. The mirrored wall rippled and warped, the surface of a pond being struck by a stone. Hard-light projection, to cut costs, but the mechanics behind it were real enough to feel the impact. A thud, a screech, and sparks cascaded around their feet as it slammed to a halt. 

Carol barely moved. A lifetime flying from the soles of her feet had some advantages. The lights above them flickered and dimmed, the mirror fields dying; somewhere distant below them a warning alarm sounded.

“Now we _really_ don’t have time --”

Gamora’s dress caught the wan light and threw it back in shimmering waves across the wire-strewn walls of the grav-lift as she stalked the two steps that brought her into Carol’s personal space. She was apparently done with words, because this time her interruption came in the form of her mouth on Carol’s, tasting of spices and alien liquor. 

Carol gave herself three generous seconds of enjoying it before she caught Gamora’s bare shoulders and pushed her away.

“Gamora, you’re not thinking straight, it’s the chemicals in that drink. Not you.”

Shards of refracted light slid over Gamora’s face as she raised her chin. “Not just the chemicals. Not since that fight in Jötunheim,” she said, and something broke and bloomed, grateful, inside Carol’s soul. “Carol, please. I can barely think. I feel like my skin is.. burning. I need..” She looked down at her hands, curled them into fists. “I need..” 

Carol had never been able to resist a call for help. She crooked her fingers under Gamora’s chin and met her eyes before leaning in and pressing her lips to Gamora’s; soft, inviting. Gamora made a low noise of surrender in the back of her throat. Her hands flattened against Carol’s chest, then slid down around her hips, pulling her closer.

“Don’t,” she murmured against Carol’s mouth, “don’t stop, I can’t, I need --”

“I know,” Carol breathed, each press of Gamora’s fingers loosening her resolve to do anything else except this. She could, she thought, live solely on the taste of Gamora’s lips and tongue on hers, the scrape of her teeth across her lower lip, the hot breath on her cheek.

She let her hands drift down the warm expanse of Gamora’s shoulders, down her bare back, fingertips bumping the edge of her dress at the base of her spine. Gamora shuddered under her touch.

“Please,” she sighed, and Carol knew what she meant, what she wanted. The dress was cut high on one side and felt strangely weightless as Carol parted it, brushing the backs of her fingers over the warmth of Gamora’s bare thigh before sliding in between her legs, and up, and --

Gamora moaned against her mouth, rolling her hips against Carol’s touch. The gossamer silk of her underwear was hot and wet and Carol groaned a little herself as she slid her fingertips over it, then pressed in, rubbing.

“Carol, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Gamora panted, as if Carol could or would do such a thing. Gamora’s hands were fumbling at her front, her usual grace deserting her in her desperation, until with a frustrated grunt she ripped the fabric apart, sending buttons skittering over the floor. Carol might have minded that if it hadn’t felt so good to have Gamora’s hands on her bare skin, her palms sliding over her hips and belly. 

Carol ducked her head to nuzzle against Gamora’s neck, breathing the scent of her skin, kissing her throat, her jaw, the place below her ear. Gamora shifted her stance, finding the catch on Carol’s pants and sliding her hand into them, and then it was Carol’s turn to moan and curse in Kree. 

“What, ahh, what do you need?” Carol spoke the words into Gamora’s hair.

“You,” Gamora breathed, increasing the speed of her ministrations, “more.”

Carol took her at her word, turning and pushing her up at the same time, parting her legs and pressing her into the wall of the lift as her fingers slid her underwear aside and into silken heat more luxurious than any fabric, revelling in the noises Gamora made as she found her clit. Even caught in a wave of aphrodisiac-induced pleasure, Gamora was not to be bested, and responded in kind, until Carol had to grip a handful of wiring to stay upright.

“Fuck,” Carol huffed, pushing against Gamora’s fingers.

“Carol,” Gamora gasped. Understanding, Carol kissed her. Tasted the words she couldn’t say as her back arched and her fingertips dug into Carol’s shoulders, the hand between Carol’s legs pressing hard as she came, shuddering, wetness sliding down Carol’s wrist.

She slid down a little, gasping, as Carol withdrew her hand. Before Carol could step back Gamora caught her, sliding her hand around the back of Carol’s neck as she kissed her and resumed moving her own fingers. It didn’t take long. Carol felt the wires in her fist fuse together as her orgasm thudded through her, buckling her knees and sending a pulse of light out from her body, a ripple of power that washed through the lift and away into the circuitry of the building.

They stood together for a few moments, foreheads resting against each other, just breathing. 

Then Gamora straightened up and Carol pulled back, wiping her hand on her shirt. Her shirt, which hung open and crumpled.

Gamora winced. “Sorry.” 

“It’s ok.” Carol reached out to straighten one of the pins in Gamora’s hair. Gamora touched the back of her hand briefly as she withdrew it. 

“I’m grateful, you didn’t have to --”

“I wanted to.”

“Good.” Gamora brushed her hands down her dress. “I get the feeling we need to talk about this, probably. When we’re not rescuing people.”

Carol blinked. “Oh right, yeah. Rescuing. Ok.” 

Gamora glanced at their surroundings. The wall coughed out a spray of sparks. 

“Can you get us out of here?”

Carol raised her eyebrows at the question. “I guess our element of surprise is probably ruined by now. The time for explosions is at hand.”

Gamora grinned. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Carol opened her arms. Gamora stepped in without hesitation, sliding her palm over Carol’s cheek and pulling her down into a kiss. 

“Hold on,” Carol murmured as they parted, “I don’t want to drop you.”

“You really do bring me to the weirdest places.”

“Oh,” Carol said, “just wait and see.”


End file.
